nd worked for her in silence,--smiling to
himself as he looked on each completed arrangement for her pleasure
or comfort; and knowing well that her happiness was involved in what
fragments of peace and material comfort might remain to her mother.

The wedding-day drew near apace. It was Philip's plan that after
they had been married in Kirk Moorside church, he and his Sylvia,
his cousin, his love, his wife, should go for the day to Robin
Hood's Bay, returning in the evening to the house behind the shop in
the market-place. There they were to find Bell Robson installed in
her future home; for Haytersbank Farm was to be given up to the new
tenant on the very day of the wedding. Sylvia would not be married
any sooner; she said that she must stay there till the very last;
and had said it with such determination that Philip had desisted
from all urgency at once.

He had told her that all should be settled for her mother's comfort
during their few hours' absence; otherwise Sylvia would not have
gone at all. He told her he should ask Hester, who was always so
good and kind--who never yet had said him nay, to go to church with
them as bridesmaid--for Sylvia would give no thought or care to
anything but her mother--and that they would leave her at
Haytersbank as they returned from church; she would manage Mrs
Robson's removal--she would do this--do that--do everything. Such
friendly confidence had Philip in Hester's willingness and tender
skill. Sylvia acquiesced at length, and Philip took upon himself to
speak to Hester on the subject.

'Hester,' said he, one day when he was preparing to go home after
the shop was closed; 'would yo' mind stopping a bit? I should like
to show yo' the place now it's done up; and I've a favour to ask on
yo' besides.' He was so happy he did not see her shiver all over.
She hesitated just a moment before she answered,--

'I'll stay, if thou wishes it, Philip. But I'm no judge o' fashions
and such like.'

'Thou'rt a judge o' comfort, and that's what I've been aiming at. I
were niver so comfortable in a' my life as when I were a lodger at
thy house,' said he, with brotherly tenderness in his tone. 'If my
mind had been at ease I could ha' said I niver were happier in all
my days than under thy roof; and I know it were thy doing for the
most part. So come along, Hester, and tell me if there's aught more
I can put in for Sylvie.'

It might not have been a very appropriate text, but such as it was